The Otherside of the Looking Glass
by TheGreenSquiggly
Summary: A most interesting case has stumbled into the asylum just outside of London proper. So curious that a doctor thought it necessary to document her in his private journal. Such an interesting turn of events for this 13 year old child. AMA spin-off.


December 13th, 1872.

A curious new patient has arrived today, a little girl who had been found on the street. Her clothes were nasty rags though she seemed sweet enough. The child appeared no older than 13, and you could imagine I was rather confused as to why she hadn't been taken to her parents, or an orphanage if she hadn't any.

But curious, indeed, was this child, for Constable had informed me she'd been muttering on and on about white rabbits and black hearts, and were it not for the girl's attempt to murder the fine man who apprehended her with a spoon, it was very likely she would have gone to the orphanage. They, apparently, had just figured out they could not find the child's parents when this sudden homicidal streak came about.

No matter, children younger than herself had been committed to this filthy waste of medical funding, and surely she wouldn't be the last insane child. We took her in and put her into one of the observation rooms for a period of twenty-four hours; mandatory, you see, if we even remotely suspect the patient may attempt suicide. I don't know why we bother with keeping them from death by their own means: it's a waste of tax paying money to keep these people locked up here, if you ask me.

December 14th, 1872.

Upon entering an observation room, the child who answers only to "Alice" – and barely at that – fell immediately to sleep, allowing the orderlies to go in and remove her soiled clothing without having to sedate her and risking the life of the poor nurse assigned to reclothing the child. Bathing would come later, didn't want to shock the poor thing.

When she did finally wake, which took longer than anyone reasonably expected (there were a few unreasonable expectations), she was escorted to a room we had taken the 24-hour observation period to prepare for her. Now this was an especially curious turn of events and worthy of note. The child was docile the entire way to the lobby and was even uninspired by the amount of people within the little room's capacity.

Because of the ancient architecture of this building, and the fact that the observation rooms were in a new wing, the lobby could not be avoided if one wished to access the basement rooms. Thus it was purely unavoidable, bringing that Alice girl passed the ornate and rather tacky looking mirror meant to make the tiny lobby look an ounce bigger than it was.

Seeing this ugly wrought iron-framed old looking glass brought about an obvious sign of neurosis in the girl so strong that a dose of sedative did not calm her. Once she gazed into its slightly cracked surface, Alice went into a psychotic episode, shouting nonsense about not wishing to face the Queen again. The nurse was preparing another injection of sedative after the haphazard first round when in dashed this little mangy cat as a visitor was entering. Upon seeing this silver-marked alley trash we later determined to be male, all signs of a tantrum ceased.

Many of the doctors who witnessed the events believed that it was a delayed, if sudden, reaction to the sedative. I, however, noticed how she never once took her eyes off that cat, not even when someone dropped a tray of instruments and you could see her body visibly flinch.

December 15th, 1872.

Since the incident yesterday, the bloody mange hasn't left the girl's side for longer than it takes him to sneak back into her room. For now this doesn't seem to be a problem, as it appears to be keeping her calm. There is no light natural light on the 6th floor of the asylum – ground level being the 4th floor, two levels above the 6th – so it is likely a good thing the cat is here, as, until he came by her side, she was rather disquieted by the location of her chamber. I suppose I would be, too, if I were in her shoes.

She hasn't fully recovered from the mirror incident, either, and the haunting way she stares at any female to approach her suggests the traumatic event that surrounds a mirror so similar to ours involved an older female, possibly of whom Alice was to give respect due to their status of authority. One of the nurses, in particular, took an unusual interest in Alice – an interest that scared her – but since the woman is deathly afraid of cats, she hasn't come near the girl since the stray showed up. Some of the other staff have gone about naming him; Crescent, for the way his almost grin-like face seems to resemble that phase of the moon.


End file.
